Holidays

Good morning, darling.

I'm having a rough night tonight, little bug. The Red Death started this afternoon- it's not as traumatic as it was last month. I was at least expecting it this time, and at least I'm a bit more prepared for how painful it might be. I wasn't prepared, though, for how much of an impact starting birth control would be. I mean.... I knew that it would make me sad, because it's another note of finality. But I just... I didn't think it would hurt this much.

I know I don't have a choice in the matter at the moment. Well, I do. I always have a choice. But choosing to not use b/c would be amazingly irresponsible of me. Your dad wants to wait, anyway. I don't, completely. My head says it's a good idea, but my heart just keeps fighting that NOW is the time to try again.

On a different side of the coin, I've been thinking about the holidays next year. About Valentine's Day, which was your due date. And Mother's Day. I'm.... I'm scared that no one will wish me a good mother's day. I'm still your parent, even though you're not here, little one. I'm scared that your dad and I will be the only people recognizing that. There was this poem that I read, that I want to put here, that another mom who lost her little one wrote.

"Dear Mr. Hallmark, I am writing to you from heaven, and though it must appear
A rather strange idea, I see everything from here.

I just popped in to visit, your stores to find a card
A card of love for my mother,as this day for her is hard.

There must be some mistake I thought, every card you could imagine
Except I could not find a card, from a child who lives in heaven.

She is still a mother too, no matter where I reside
I had to leave, she understands, but oh the tears she's cried.

I thought that if I wrote you, that you would come to know
That though I live in heaven now, I still love my mother so.

She talks with me, and dreams with me; we still share laughter too,
Memories our way of speaking now, would you see what you could do?

My mother carries me in her heart, her tears she hides from sight.
She writes poems to honor me, sometimes far into the night.

She plants flowers in my garden, there my living memory dwells
She writes to other grieving parents, trying to ease their pain as well.

So you see Mr. Hallmark, though I no longer live on earth
I must find a way, to remind her of her wondrous worth.

She needs to be honored, and remembered too
Just as the children of earth will do.

Thank you Mr. Hallmark, I know you'll do your best
I have done all I can do; to you I'll leave the rest.

Find a way to tell her, how much she means to me
Until I can do it for myself, when she joins me in eternity."

I really love that poem, even if it makes me cry. I miss you, little bug. I hope that you're having fun with Uncle Mark. I'm going to go lie down try to sleep now. I'll probably just cry.

I love you.